


Colour outside the lines

by orphan_account



Series: It's you my favorite [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Colours, Huang Ren Jun-centric, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, Synesthesia, i miss haseul, like literally where is it, lots of colours, lucas!dancemajor, renjun!artmajor, so ao3 isn't nice and I can't find the loona ensemble tag, sorry not posting yesterday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 00:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19345792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Renjun always thought that love was overrated. Sure, if somebody asked, he would say that art was his soulmate, the other half of him.But, of course, fate justhadto mess with him, when he thinks that life is enough. All by another clueless Chinese boy, who didn’t study art, but shared the same sentiment about colours and lines.(Aka: Lucas singlehandedly ruins Renjun’s well constructed life, where he’d colour everything within the lines, but doesn't anymore.)





	Colour outside the lines

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I never thought I’d post 3 works in 4 days guys I wanted to make this longer and more like a normal fic but why not continue with the series first? This is kind of inspired by other fictions with colour centrics and stuff. Also, I spell colour the English way, so be prepared for that. And Jun is kind of a synesthete who sees colours in people’s personalities.  
> I had my first black coffee this afternoon and let’s just say I learnt that I am, in fact, caffeine intolerant to a really severe point.  
> There's a hell lot more mentions of languages than I first planned, so refer to the end notes for more. Also, there are 2 more works in this series that might make a bit more sense if you read it, but it's perfectly okay to treat this as a solo fic ;)  
> Here’s ya serve

Renjun always thought that love was overrated. Sure, if somebody asked, he would say that art was his soulmate, the other half of him.

But, of course, fate just had to mess with him, when he thinks that life is enough. All by another clueless Chinese boy, who didn’t study art, but shared the same sentiment about colours and lines.

So, what exactly is Lucas?  
~

The first time they met, Renjun would have said sky blue. Lucas was wearing a blue sweater, which may have contributed to the first impression, and the older boy looked like a giant overgrown puppy: with broken Korean, the younger noted.

Despite everything, he had a nervous smile that made the air around them even warmer, saying, “Where… class… at?” Renjun could practically hear the Chinese lilt in his voice. Jungwoo, Donghyuck, Mark, Jeno and Jisung all strained their ears to get his point, leaving Renjun the only one understanding.

“Zai wu ling yi shi。(In Room 521.)” The younger boy added as nonchalantly as he could in perfect mandarin.

“Oh! Okay, thanks. Didn’t know you speak Chinese too. It’s nice finding someone that I can actually talk to without help, you know.” Lucas broke into a wide smile, genuine and child-like, and Renjun’s mind screams blue blue blue blue. He returns one back, with the others still gawking. “I’m Lucas, but you can call me Xuxi. Can I sit with you guys?”

Renjun is described as small and spicy, yes, but nobody can ever turn down or hurt this ball of fluff, because he had decided to kill whoever does so. “Yeah, of course. You’re welcome to join us anytime.”

“What did you talk about?” Donghyuck whispers extra fast in Korean, to ensure that Lucas doesn’t overhear. “Seriously, Huang, I’ve never seen you smile at a stranger at all.”

Renjun doesn’t say anything, because 1. He knows the statement is true and 2. His mind was still screaming colours at him until it flooded his eyesight in the art room later on.

Lucas is blue. He’s the kind of sky blue, with big clouds in it. He’s the sky of Jilin, which Renjun could see every time he raised his head when he was a kid, and the memory of innocence and simpleness.  
~

It soon changes to orange.

Lucas, or Xuxi as Renjun prefers, is now officially a member of the gang after 2 months of sitting at the same table. Along with Chenle, the three boys made up the Chinese line, sometimes with Mark to form the foreign line. Jaemin is also there, and Jeno’s way too whipped. Not to mention how Mark and Donghyuck were like at certain times.

“Wanna go for a trip down the river? It’s not that far away, we can even get ice cream on the way there.” Chenle asks. Renjun knows this route well enough, the river is actually a small makeshift park for the kids around the neighbourhood, which eventually grew into a real park. Lucas thinks for a second, then agrees, steps ahead of the duo even though it was his first time. Renjun couldn’t help but notice the small bounce in his step everytime he walked, making him even more childlike.

“There are so many puppies here, oh my God. This is the best day of my life.” Lucas declares the moment he steps in sight of the place, river clearly not the main point.

“Ge, you do realise that you’re practically one too, right?” Chenle’s point goes unheard by the older, who tackles the dogs and heck, Renjun can’t help but agree. To be honest, Lucas looks like he belongs there, with his doe eyes and smile. Renjun tries not to react to that thought.

After being tackled and leaving only very, very reluctantly, they walk down the river as planned, to stop every 5 seconds because Lucas would point out something that wasn’t particularly interesting. Chenle actually looked like he regretted his suggestion, but didn’t mutter a word to pop the older’s bubble, who could ever? As Lucas skipped around touching the leaves and feeling the water streaming over his hands, acting like a child freshly exposed to the world, with the element of fun and childhood integrated in his behaviour. Renjun looked at him, not able nor wanting to peel his eyes off, until Chenle snaps his fingers and shoots him a weird look.

Lucas is orange, fun and vibrant and childlike.The choice to be happy, untainted by the world, gratefulness for the daily things people tend to overlook. It’s how much he looks like a puppy, and cute animals. Maybe, or maybe not, Renjun feels a skip in his heart every time Lucas’s name is brought up.  
~

And then it’s white.

Renjun has fully touched the weird side of Lucas: he’s seen the other boy spit out a mosquito screaming, because God knows why, and other questionable things he’d rather not bring up. He also grew to be even fonder of the older, helping him improve his Korean, while keeping his Chinese skills intact.

On one fateful afternoon, he meets a girl with long, pink hair, and the most doll-like visuals ever. Lucas runs up to her, grinning, one Renjun can decipher that was reserved for close friends, tackling her as gentle as someone 180 cm tall could.

“你搞緊咩?邊個嚟㗎?(What are you doing? Who’s that?)” The girl looked up from her phone, speaking in a language the youngest didn’t quite understand. Her voice was soft, almost like butter, in which Lucas smiled endearingly to. Renjun feels a small stab of jealousy in his stomach, curling up, in thoughts that maybe this was his girlfriend.

“冇啊。依個係仁俊，我成日同你講果個。(Nothing. This is Renjun, the one I always tell you about.)” Lucas replied. Renjun’s eyes widened: he knew that Lucas was from China, but not specifically which part. “Which dialect do you speak?”

“Oh, didn’t Yukhei tell you? We’re from Hong Kong. I’m his sister, Huang Jiaxi, or Wong Kahei, or Viian.” Viian switched to Mandarin, smooth but not as fluent. Now it made sense why Lucas stammers a bit even in Mandarin. “Now, if you don’t mind, look after him, okay? I know he’s older, but he’s still a child by heart. Also, I’m not daft, I know the way you look at him.” She shoots Renjun a look, one that only a sister is capable of. “He always talk about you. Listen, he’s my baby brother, and we’re kind of each other’s everything at this moment. I might not look very fond of him, but I love him a lot, so don’t rush things when he isn’t ready.”

“I don’t- we’re not-” Before the boy could stutter any more words, Viian smiles, looking at Lucas bouncing away to let the two talk. ”You’re dafter than you look. Soon, child, soon. And if there’s one thing Loona is, it’s correct.” She walks away without further explanation.

That’s the moment where Renjun knows that either Viian is in a cult, or maybe weirdness does run in the genes.

Lucas is white. The purity of family love, sibling love, and so on. How tenderly he looks at Viian, and how he looks like a small tamed poodle with that stupid white button-up. How evident the siblings are close, and how Lucas isn’t the least bit embarrassed by it, instead choosing to show the world. How easily and much he loves.  
~

And there’s brown.

“Like, I don’t even know anymore, why do I even bother with them, oh my God. I swear that Taeyong and Jaehyun are the worst people to ever exist. The stamina? I don’t really want to know how loud they can go? Seriously, we all live together.” Mark rambles in English when he crashes the table, a habit he formed when he’s pissed or stressed.

“Dude, talk in Korean, literally nobody can understand you.” Jisung says, picking at his food.

“Maybe tell them to tone it down? I mean, I hate people being too loud too.” Lucas answers in English, leaving the whole table speechless.

“How many languages do you actually speak, dude?” Chenle asks. He knows about the Cantonese incident, and speaking 3 languages sounds hard enough already.

“5? I guess? I mean, if you count Thai as well. I ain’t that good at it though.” He spoons another mouthful of tofu into his mouth. “Korean, Cantonese, Mandarin, English, and a little Thai.”

“That’s so cool. I feel like an idiot now because I only know one.” Donghyuck sighs dramatically.

“唔可以話你錯嘅。(Can’t say you’re wrong.)” [Note: this is Canto. Refer to the notes later on for more reference.]

“Wait, What was that? Did you just flex on me with your lingual abilities?” The younger raises an eyebrow. “But, like, seriously, hyung. It’s cool that you speak so many languages.”

Lucas’s smile softens. “Thanks, I guess. But you’re a lot more talented, and you have a nice personality and bright aura that no language can ever trap. Knowing one language doesn’t make you stupid exactly.”

Renjun can bear witness that Donghyuck was even brighter than usual.

Lucas is brown. Down to Earth, modest, and appreciative. Bearing good and spreading it out like fruits, and humble, giving credit for everyone except himself, but not self depreciating. He’s a breath of clean air in this arrogant, narcissistic world, where he talks about the good of others in meaningful words, not just shallow comments.  
~

Of course there’s green. Green, the colour of life, freshness, and jealousy.

Renjun agreed to date Jeno before, because he was trying to get Lucas’s attention. Sure, the older boy has a lot of friends, and he’s been hanging out with them a lot these few days, or ‘dumping our lonely asses’ in Donghyuck’s words.

Three days into their one pathetic excuse of a relationship, they break up.

Jeno smiles like he predicted it. “I see the looks you send Lucas, by the way. I’m not blind.” He adds, which Renjun reddens and proceeds to smack him. “There’s nothing going on-”

Then he sees Lucas, settling for their table, frowning slightly. Renjun retracts his hand from attacking his ex-boyfriend slash best friend. “What’s wrong?”

Lucas didn’t budge. The younger mirrors his expression and tries to pry. “Don’t you have a boyfriend to go tend to?” He asks in Korean, making sure Jeno heard him perfect and clear.

“Oh, no, Yukkie. We broke up about 2 minutes ago, because it’s kinda clear we’re better off as friends. Jeno sends the Chinese boy crescents as smiles, and Lucas’s tension melts away from his body, and the familiar, overbearing smile takes its place again. “I can’t handle someone that spicy.”

“Great. You can’t give him anything good either.” Lucas smiles teasingly, tackling Renjun in a big hug. The smaller boy’s cheeks burn up, and he knows he’s going to be given hell on about later on.

Maybe he should really try to not care, and break the life he’s slowly adjusting to. Maybe it’ll be worth it.

Lucas is green. How cute he looks when he’s jealous, the less good parts about him that people didn’t like. The way he talks too loud at inappropriate events, language barriers that can be unsurprisingly inconvenient, how he doesn’t know what’s suitable. But, mostly, not even making Renjun regret losing his layers of constructed masquerade at school with his smile and wide eyes, stripping his name of the untouchable, prodigy art kid, and convincing him to colour outside the lines.  
~

Renjun seldom uses purple in his paintings. They’re too abstract, he likes painting real, materialistic things, with colour touching the lines and people being able to get its meaning. Purple is too royal, too hard to understand, too unnatural and mysterious. Fits his school image, but goes against his art style (“Who says your art must be in line with who you are? And what you feel?”

“That’s kind of the point, Injun. Art is to express oneself.” Mark shrugs.)

They know that Lucas is a dance arts major, but none of the squad really brought it up or requested to see him dance, at least not until he invited him to a performance.

(“You sure it’ll be okay? Don’t you have, like, an art exhibition or something to attend?” Lucas asks. Renjun shrugs it off. “It’s nothing important.”

Little did the older know, the younger would literally do or skip anything to spend more time with him, no matter the consequences.)

“It’s nothing major, and the older guys are probably gonna snatch the spotlight. There’s my noona and some of her group, and their college dance team. It’s actually a university performance, and I don’t know why they chose me to do an extra solo, and I heard Mark’s brother is also doing one? I don’t really think I’m on his level though.”

And the devil speaks. Renjun already knows not to trust the older’s humble words, or maybe he’s just too whipped and has given up on denying it. The group performances were well, to say the least, great, including both the female and male teams. But Lucas’s was striking.

The stage starts with dim purple lights, shining over the polished stage. The dancer’s movements were fluid, flexible: like a pool of water that never stops streaming, or the flow of classical music, mellow yet strong. On the other hand, he was sharp and clean, like the Samurai knives in animes, clear cutting and quick and swift. Enchanting. The solo ends in a burst of applause, and he sees Lucas’s eyes darting around, searching for a figure, settling on Renjun finally, without his usual smile, eyes filled with something the younger couldn’t grasp. It only lasts for about 2 seconds, until the older reverts back to his antics, smiling wide and winning everyone’s hearts in another way.

The blond could almost be sure the look was directed to him.

Lucas is purple. The type of rich, silky electric purple, a feast for the eyes. He has a mysterious side to him, his charisma to dancing and performing, and mostly his ability to be both hot and cute at the same time. A deadly combo, which shall be noted, but no less charming and daring. Purple is his second side, where he puts a story in movements and rhythms, and captivates even more hearts if that’s possible; the wolf side to the puppy, the heirlooms to the Moon, whose heart shall only be claimed by one person ever.  
~

Rainbows are not as good as they say, and don’t even try to deny this, we all know it’s true. Renjun goes by this statement strongly. It’s just 6 (or 7, if you prefer to go more traditional) basic colours and doesn’t even have the most fundamental black and white in it. For the art major, he’d rather describe things in a more detailed way, and more concrete on the shades of colour he sees.

When Lucas makes him stay after the performance, Renjun actually stumbled, strokes of different colours in front of his irises. Mostly strokes of white paint, thick and bright, blending all together. He accepts the offer with a worried look from the older, waiting for him outside the bricked walls of the university, hands tracing over the rough russet stones. From a distance, he sees Lucas talking to Viian, with Jisung’s older sister Chaewon by her side. Chaewon is in Renjun’s year, but also got to perform with the female group along with other underage members- they claimed that they were inseparable, causing a few worrying looks from the board, but was ultimately agreed upon.

“Hey.” Lucas was wearing that smile of his, big and warm and soothing. “I just wanted to tell you something.” The smile was replaced by something else, similar to the expression for the final seconds onstage.

“Relax, ge, it’s okay.” The smaller boy smiles, as if his heart isn’t beating its way out of his chest. He gets the gist of what’s about to happen, but there’s still an uncertainty. He doesn’t dare hope. Just not yet.

“Wo xi huan ni. (I like you.)” Without even waiting for the younger’s response. “Ni zhi dao ma? Gan jue mei you le ni jiu mei you le quan shi jie. Wo ben lai yu bei le yi zheng duan hua xiang gen ni shuo, bu guo wo dou wang le. Zhe jiu shi ni dui wo de zuo yong, gen ni zai yi qi, suo you dong xi dou bu zhong yao, ke yi pao kai, wo ye xiang ge sha zi, lian zi ji de ming zi dou hui wang ji. Ru guo ni bu xi huan wo, wo bu hui bi ni, ke shi… ke yi gen wo shi shi ma? (Do you know? It feels like I’ll lose the world without you. I prepared a whole speech but I’ve forgotten everything; that’s the effect you have on me: with you by my side, nothing’s important anymore. Everything can be thrown away and I’d even forget my own name like a fool. I’m not going to force you if you don’t like me, but can you… try being with me?)”

Renjun thinks fast. He knows that if he spends time to find the perfect comeback, the perfect reply, it would be too late. So, he opts for the first thing in his mind.

“Na ni zheng ming yi xia, ni you duo xi huan wo. (Then prove how much you like me.)” He knows the older is always up for a challenge. He doesn’t know why it would be a surprise when Lucas takes is chin, gently, and kisses him. Soft and tender and he was surprised, pleasantly surprised before the colours start rushing in.

There’s a stroke of lavender, creamy and lighthearted, and a swirl of dark pink. Sapphires and azures and diluted pond blues, in the form of watercolours. Teal intertwined with tiffany and turquoise, chalky and more towards acrylics, like the bright ambers and bumblebees. Beige and cream and bumblebee blossoms over the place, and sunlight floods over him. The canvas is so big, so wide, that the boy can’t even see the end of it: and so many things are happening at the same time. It’s messy, but comforting and weirdly in sync, spikes of affection shooting through his vines. Even when they part, both smiling, there are lingering specks of periwinkle. All of them out of the straight, black lines that no longer made sense, like rules that were meant to be broken.

“I’ve been wanting to do that.” Renjun says.

“Same.” Lucas, hands still on the younger’s cheeks, looks more awake and alive ever, even after a dance performance. “I’d like to kiss you again, maybe even longer this time, but I’m sweaty and they’re going to wonder where we are if we don’t come back inside anymore.”

“Don’t.” Renjun pouts, he never does that, and the older’s heart inflates so big he doesn’t know why it hadn’t burst yet. “If you do, I’m going to find someone else who’d kiss me even after a dance.”

It seemed like the correct thing to say. Lucas’s gaze darkens, and doesn’t waste any time before connecting their lips and deepening the kiss. Renjun lets out a small, startled mewl, but none of them stopped. This time, the canvas is filled with indigos and magnetas, violets dazzling their way out of the plain sheet. Burgundy like wine and crimson like blood, fresh out of its prey, maroons and navys and a whole symphony of these deep and alluring pigments that would definitely mislead people if shared with anyone. Things didn’t go anywhere further before they part due to lack of oxygen, panting, and Lucas’s lips are slicked: Renjun’s work, the boy happily notes. They stay just like that, no words or actions needed, just needing each other in their arms-

Before they were rudely interrupted by the dance teams and their gang of friends, bombarded with questions, amusement and screams.

Lucas is every single colour available on the spectrum. He’s carolina blue, soft and looking out for his boyfriend. He’s peach, buying Renjun flowers and picking him up from class, cocooning himself in sweater that the smaller thinks he’s going to die from all the softness. He’s burnt sienna, after dance class or training, sticking to the younger as he’s the only one that will ever tolerate him. He’s mint, fresh and breathy, talking in several languages all at once but somehow still understandable. He’s the hint of silver, when people drag tinsel all over him, taking him as a makeshift tree for Christmas and the being the star on top. He’s the abstract to Renjun’s realism, the colour outside his lines, the fun in being messy and making no sense.

Lucas should be his own colour. Or, a cluster of colours, as that’s what makes him up: the quirks and habits and traits of him, overflowing and mixing into a giant pot. A bit of the original colours, some electric, some duller: all of them, together to form a person, the person who lets him see all the colours.

You let me see colours by being them.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh considering this is in 2 days I wouldn't really expect much and I didn't proofread sorry  
> Yep I speak the three languages I typed in but I'm not an expert so I'm trying my best to explain what's going on  
> So Mandarin and Cantonese both use Chinese characters for writing, unlike how I used Pinyin in this fic. I mean, people would understand, but it's kind of weird? And it's hard to read like that. I didn't use the 5 tones in pinyin for this so it's even harder to read. I don't exactly know simplified Chinese so I decided it's better to use Pinyin.  
> On the contrary, nobody is going to understand English characters (not really, most Hong Kong people text in chinglish) for Chinese words and we use traditional Chinese. Most people can read between traditional and simplified to a level of proficiency. But for Cantonese, unlike Mandarin or English, the way we write and the way we talk is different. Most words in spoken can be written down, but no schools or higher departments of Hong Kong allows that, so we have to learn spoken Cantonese and textbook Cantonese. Also, spoken Cantonese has 9 tones. The two languages are understandable in writing, but not in speaking, and if you decide to write in traditional with the spoken way (like I did in the fic. I didn't use textbook), Mandarin and Cantonese are two different languages.  
> For more info, you can search it on the web. Next to everyone in Hong Kong speaks 3 languages, so these are easy for us. I don't know for other people though.]  
> And Loona as a cult is kind of my concept I don't care you're not allowed to protest.


End file.
